As the ground all around the dwarf became dyed in red, he cursed the humans in his heart with all his might. They had forced them into this situation... it was one thing to suffer slavery, but to be forced to kill your own kin… it broke your spirit.

Their numbers were slowly dwindling. Even though they were all strong males that had trained their bodies in the mine for a long time, they were just too few.

The dwarf’s group were a measly 20 equipped with wooden weapons, while their enemies were 40 strong with metal weapons. They were outclassed in gear and numbers.

The only reason why they had lasted so long was because of the dwarf and the sheer desperation of the miners, watching as their long awaited freedom slipped from their hands.

There were no more tears or cries, only fierce determination to succeed remaining in their bodies. Their blood stained fur and shabby clothes made them look like demons that escaped from hell, many wounds piling up on the demi-humans.

One by one, the miners fell, and a part of the dwarf went with them.

The youngest of the bunch, a young wolfkin barely out of his teens, was wounded until they couldn't even recognize his body. The metal weapons were blunt, which meant that they could not make clean cuts, relying on brute damage and some successful slices to wear down the miners.

Another beastkin fell soon after, his bloodied hands gripping the wooden weapon until the very end, he was a middle aged beastkin who always talked about his daughter back at the Demi-Human continent.

The dwarf kept fighting with all he had, trying his absolute best to prevent more deaths. But the corpses continued piling up.

Likin, an old beastkin, fell next to the dwarf… He had always done the treacherous trek throughout the woods outside the mine, whilst hiding from the guards, bringing back many herbs that saved the lives of the younger ones.

The connections that the dwarf had made, the bonds that gave meaning to his otherwise pointless life were erased from existence one by one… in the most gruesome way possible.

...

The dwarf knew that they had lost when the battle reached a tired and battered 5 against an equally punished but better equipped 15. They had done their best, but their best was not enough.

Knowing his destiny, the dwarf accepted the void that grew inside his heart and stopped caring about anything else, his mind not able to take the sight of his companions being brutally killed.

So his gaze wandered, trying his best to avoid the bloodthirsty demi-humans that approached them, red weapons at the ready to reap their lives.

He involuntarily watched the child fighting against the Rock Monster, the body of the child was covered in caked blood and mud, one of his hands bent at a weird angle, restricting its movement.

The dwarf thought it was hilarious, that tiny child fought until the very end, no matter the battering he took, while the dwarf had already given up and accepted his fate.

It was unfair…

...

He had to give it to the child though, the beast was no better off. Although the many open wounds had already closed, covered by thin rocky scabs, the amount of blood pooled on the ground betrayed the weakness of the monster, making it waver once in a while, clearly having bleed out far too much.

The child had a second, bigger dagger on his hand, though it too was covered in cracks and on the verge of breaking apart. The child glanced at it for a second and threw it away.

The beast roared, proving that a dying flame shone brightest when it was going out. The child ignored the beast and took out a pure white piece of water with many golden lines drawn on it. It shone for a second before turning into particles of light, covering the child’s hand and returning it to normal.

The dwarf couldn’t help but gasp at the sight, he had never seen such a thing.

The beast and the child dashed towards each other once again, the beast pointing its sharp jaw towards the child, aiming to pierce him. The child managed to sidestep the jaw, seconds away from being blown through.

The monster dug its heels into the ground, in the hopes of bashing the child with it’s rocky tail. This left its side open to the child for a few seconds, though with no weapon, it would be pointless.

Or so the dwarf thought…

Before the monster could recover, the child threw his arm back, tightening all the muscles until their limit, veins bulging out and blood exploding from strained capillaries.

BANG

The child released his punch straight into the side of the creature, denting the rocky exterior and making blood pour out of the cracks. Of course, the arm of the child was also thrown back, a white piece of bone poking out from his elbow.

The beast roared in pain, but it's already weak energy and strength led it to topple over, sending dirt and rock flying everywhere. The child used this opportunity to jump onto the beast and rush towards it’s destroyed eye, and with a strong kick, forced the blade deeper into the beast, probably reaching the brain.

The monster struggled for a few seconds, and managed to raise its body a few centimeters off the ground, before faltering and completely collapsing, no longer moving a single muscle.

The child broke down into tears, the adrenaline was surely not enough to cover the pain of his entirely crushed arm, the pain enough to drive anyone mad. The child managed to take another white scroll with his only working arm and used it.

The bone gruesomely dug back into the flesh and snapped into place, the arm twisting and turning until it returned to normal, the child having long ago collapsed to the ground.

The dwarf couldn’t even close his mouth…

What a breathtaking fight, a child had managed to destroy a beast that was more than thrice his size…

Even though he hated humans with all his heart, he couldn’t help but regain some of his old motivation, the underdogs loved watching other underdogs succeed.

A brief look downwards made him realize it was far too late, a blunt metal halbert sticking out from his chest. The dwarf briefly coughed and spit out blood, his hand grabbing the handle of the halberd that had been left alone, halfway into his body.

He turned around and threw the weapon, decapitating a few more demi-humans, and like a puppet with its strings cut, fell to the ground.

His eyes watched the blue sky with the same uninterested look, his dying mind flashing his entire life…

He had let everyone down, and had died without accomplishing anything, he lived as a slave and died like a slave.

Blood poured from his wounds, his life seeping from his body with increasing speed.

His mind in disarray, his head turned towards the battle with the Rock Monsters…

The dwarf knew he would be used as bait, the leader of the monsters had even so itself. He was only betting on the fact that they would be able to escape amid the confusion…

Another one of the things he had failed…

...

The third Bulette went down before the dwarf could notice, leaving only a single Bulette, who was strangely enough, not going down…

The dwarf watched for a moment and realized the truth.

A smile covered his mouth, the cries of the many demi-humans who had survived finally entering his ears. Some were in happiness, others were in despair…

The dwarf began laughing out loud, the movements making even more blood flow out of his wound.

He wanted revenge, he wanted all humans to die, he wanted those who had murdered them to suffer the consequences. The void inside his body was filled with a murky black and a slight purple.

A wicked thought entered the mind of the dwarf.

...

Ah… he would certainly die today.

But so would those humans…

He wanted to laugh until his last breath if he could, making fun of the ending, making fun of the process and making fun of the beginning. His life held no meaning, and he held no attachment to life…

...

What a good joke..

….

The dying throes of the third Bulette echoed throughout the clearing, signaling the end of the fight and serving as a clear signal to the winners.

“Finally…” Jule could barely talk.

He had taken the metal armor off his body, black and blue bruises covering him from top to bottom, he had been forced to concentrate the healing on his arm. It had not been easy by any measure, but he had taken a Bulette all on his own, a deed worth celebrating.

But Jule’s mood was dark, the other battles hadn’t been as successful.. some losses were to be expected,but it stung a bit…

He had wanted this subjugation to be as perfect as possible.

Other than the monsterkin, all major troubles had been taken care of. The dire wolves and goblins would be easy prey without the Bulettes covering them and they had surely suffered some losses to the still raging fire.

The only thing that made him refuse the sweet whispers of rest was the battle with the fourth Bulette, the one who had been distracted by the rank 1s. Although the rank 2 mind refiners had long ago started helping them, the beast persevered.

It had been slashed, skewered, and crushed many times, yet it still stood.

Jule couldn’t help but bite his lip, wondering just what the hell was wrong with that Bulette, was ii the leader of the pack?

A second roar interrupted Jule’s thinking, making him struggle to get up from his position on the ground. He believed that the fourth monster had finally succumbed, the monsterkin nowhere to be seen.

The scene that he saw, when he finally managed to focus on the image, made him tilt his head to the side.

The Bulette was bleeding all over, many cracks growing on his exterior, yet no human was close to it and it wasn’t being attacked by any elemental weapon…

Tears flowed from the monter’s eyes, his roar becoming distorted, as if he was being subjected to the most unimaginable pain in existence.

After twitching around for a bit, it stopped moving, falling to ground with lifeless eyes.

Everyone who watched the scene waited for a second...and then two..

Cheers began to rise from everyone's throats after the tenth second passed, yet they were shocked still by a small black tendril of flesh that came out of the Bulette’s mouth, the fur of said tendril wet with saliva.

The tendril grew in size, until a white bone left the mouth of the Bulette, crushing the jaw apart. What came out was the polished skull of a buck, with red flames swirling right at the eye cavities.

Jule immediately realized the type of monsterkin they were facing.

It was a Wendigo…

The Wendigo looked around, its red eyes glaring a hole through all the humans that surrounded it. The monsterkin made the body of the Bulette it was inhabiting explode soon after, revealing its long black humanoid body.

The wet fur of the slimy monster turned into smaller tendrils that grabbed the pieces of the torn apart Bulette, giving the Wendigo a suit of stone armor.

Following this, the howls of the wolves and the shouting of the goblins reached us. It seems that the fire had died enough to free them, letting a few of the monsters escape.

Most of the monsters were singed and the smell of burnt flesh and fur wafted in the air. Even though they were severely wounded, the monsters were still 30 strong and eyeing us with hunger.

It seems the Wendigo had managed to get us right where it wanted. He tired and wounded us with the Bulettes and was now going to hit us with all it had. It would certainly spell our inevitable doom.

Only…

We also had an ace up our sleeve.

…

A massive explosion blinded everyone’s eyes for a brief second, covering the ground in upturned dirt and stone. The Wendigo screeched and tried to compress its body, but it was far too late.

With a blast, one of the arms of the Wendigo was sent flying off, black goo spurting endlessly from the sliced extremity. The force was so strong that the Wendigo even fell backwards.

Just in front of the beast, the dust cleared and the figure of a man could be seen, standing straight and with his head held high. The man held his sword in a relaxed grip, black goo dripping from the blade.

The sun shone on his armor, reflecting off the feather-like metal, giving it a strange glow. A very different Parn from what Jule knew stood there, the aura of his mere presence making everyone cower.

Even though he had called him the Silver Rooster earlier, Jule couldn’t be happier to eat his own words. The Parn in front of Jule right now, was truly the Silver Gryphon.

Parn swiped his sword, flames melting the black goo covering his blade into a puddle.

“Don’t get too cocky now, animal”... Parn growled and the Wendigo backed off, the wound on his arm still releasing blood.